


Pimms and Polo

by RovingTiger



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RovingTiger/pseuds/RovingTiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theresa took Martin to a polo match at Maxi's school, and it turns out she's not the only one who has brought a hot date along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pimms and Polo

"Why are there so many red trousers? I feel rather out place. Well, even more out of place."

  
Martin was looking around at the sea of maroon legs in the paddock. It was a clear, sunny day on the playing fields at Maxi's school, and Theresa was in England for a charity polo tournament for the school's foundation. As if the fees weren't ridiculous anyway. Martin had been persuaded to come on the basis that Maxi wasn't actually in attendance, so he could enjoy Theresa's company, and an excessive amount of gin and tonics, without Maxi's insistence that Martin conduct any communication with him through the embassy in London.

Theresa shrugged. "I don't know. I've always assumed it was an English thing. "

"Maybe, but they're rare outside of dos like this. I mean, I always had the theory that they're used for posh men to spot each other in crowds at sporting events, but it doesn't work when everyone wears them. Where do you even buy the damn things?"

"Well, don't worry Martin. Your trousers look lovely. And so does your arse, which is exactly why I bought them for you."

"Theresa!"

"Shush. Oh look, now you match everyone's silly trousers. Come on, I've got to talk to as many of these dreadful people as possible, so I can hopefully impress the importance of their children refraining from picking on a head of state, so I'll need some support."

"I don't think you'll need any help with that, I'm not exactly the intimidating presence you are." And Maxi could probably do with being taken down a peg, Martin thought.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Theresa snarled playfully, as she made use of the extra half an inch she had on Martin, even in flats.

"I mean you're very regal, in the way you were very regal with Caroline. Anyway, can we grab some lunch first? The hog roast does look good." Martin had made a lot of progress, but still wasn't at the point where he'd admitted quite the extent to which his diet was baked beans based.

Theresa agreed, and took Martin by the arm. Martin was glad to still feel the leap in his chest when she did that, and the couple happily snaked towards the marquees through the crowd, an odd mixture of braying old boys of the school in those red trousers or Harris tweed, their wives and girlfriends in increasingly loud summer dresses and enormous butterfly sunglasses, augmented by contingents of conspicuously foreign parents sweating in three piece suits or conspicuously not sweating in their thawbs. Martin and Theresa made their way through the crowd, and ducked into the food marquee. They both blinked in the lower light as they took off their aviators, and once their eyes had adjusted, they started to move towards the queue, but were arrested by a cheerful voice.

"Hello Skip! Brilliant, I didn't know you were here! And Your Royal Majesty, good to see you too!"

"Arthur? What are you doing here?"

"My friend brought me here! She's very nice, but she's not very interested in the sport. I've never seen it before, but it's brilliant! It's like jousting, but with football as well! Anyway, I knew this was a fancy do but I didn't think it was fancy enough for you, Theresa!"

"Well Arthur," said Theresa," this is Maxi's school, so I thought I'd use the opportunity to take Martin on a date while I'm in England. He's been complaining about taking him to too fancy parties, so this seemed like a good idea."

At this point a tall blonde young lady in jodpurs advanced towards the table, calling out, "Arthur darling, I found Pimms! Oh, who are your friends?"

"Oh, this is Skip, I must have mentioned him, and his girlfriend, she's his princess!"

"How sweet! Cassandra Rimington-Pounder. Charmed."

Martin spluttered out his full name and introduced Theresa, although was encouraged to see the merest shadow of a smirk on Theresa's face that centuries of diplomatic expertise and breeding couldn't quite contain. He'd have to remember that name for one of Douglas' games, it was bound to come up.

"So, how do you know Arthur?" Martin asked, although he had a decent idea from Caroline's accounts of Arthur's dating exploits. From appearances, Miss Rimington-Pounder wasn't looking to be a combo breaker.

"We met through an old school friend, I think one of your old flames, Arthur? She put me onto him, and I've got a horse running out today, so this adorable thing tagged along." She ruffled Arthur's hair, who looked appropriately sheepish. "Arthur's fond of you then, so what do you do?"

Martin coughed, and said hesitantly, "I'm the Captain of the jet Arthur works on? It's why he calls me Skip?"

Cassandra sniggered, "No, I'd worked that out, I meant you Theresa. Are you cabin crew too?"

Theresa grinned, but Martin recognised the edge in it when he didn't know if she was joking or not. "No, I don't think Martin's that kind of pilot. I believe they're known in the industry as a Richardson. Unless you have anything to confess, Arthur?"

Martin flushed as red as Arthur's trousers, while Arthur himself just looked thoughtful.

" Skip and I hid bacon that was past the sell by date in Douglas's bag after he cheated at the Travelling Lemon last week, but I'm not sure if it's relevant?"

"Sorry, what do you do then?" Cassandra still looked confused, probably as much by the Travelling Lemon as anything else, Martin thought.

"Well, I'm unemployed at the moment, living off the state."

"Oh, poor you! I know it's bad out there, how are you coping?"

"Not too badly. Just about scraping enough to keep little Maxi in his school fees for here, but I'm still... well I'm still sort of living with my mother. She's got a bedroom spare in the family home."

"Oh poor you! Martin here must be quite the catch then, an airline pilot! He can tide you over for a bit then." Cassandra was the image of concern, and Martin was getting increasingly uncomfortable, but Theresa was obviously enjoying herself, and she kept going before Arthur could unknot his brow and interrupt.

"Oh yes, it's been nice going on some proper dates for once. He's a real gentleman, insists on paying for everything. " She leant in, "between you and me, he let me tag along to India with him on the plane. Just for the night, it was very glamorous."

"Wow. Any chance of me tagging along for a jolly, Arthur?" Arthur stammered about Mum, but Cassandra was already chatting again. "Well, it's lovely meeting some of Arthur's friends, and I hope things look up for you soon, Theresa. Oh, there's Penelope, I'll be back in a moment Arty." And with that she was off into the crowd.

"She seemed nice." mused Theresa, grinning.

Martin blinked. "Arty?"

Arthur shrugged. "I'll put up with it. Are you here in secret, then, Theresa?"

"Yes, I'm a secret agent for Liechtenstein. It's a hereditary title, someone has to do it."

"Brilliant! Mum's the word! Sit down, I'll tell you what I've seen today. Some of those horses look very suspicious."

Martin and Theresa turned around to look for chairs to pull over. "Don't tease Arthur like that, he'll do something stupid." said Martin, under his breath.

"As opposed to him not doing something stupid? Lighten up! I'm OK to tease Cassandra though?" Theresa grinned.

Martin smiled thinly. "Fine, go for it. You're obviously enjoying yourself."

"Of course I am," Theresa replied, "it's a lovely day, you're here with me, Maxi's indoors doing trigonometry, we can spend the afternoon with a friend rather than networking and watching posh men chase after a tiny ball, and there's a hog roast." she pecked him on the cheek. "Now you go and fetch us some food, my sexy pilot Sugar-daddy."

Martin flushed, and nearly fell over a chair as he stumbled off. Theresa sat down.

"So before I learn about all the anti-Liechtenstein Republican activities going on at St. Savior's School for Boys, Arthur, tell me about this Travelling Lemon..."


End file.
